


Cowboy MUA

by Sovereign_Tea



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, MUA Au, MUA Genji, McHanzo - Freeform, Model Hanzo, Photographer Jesse, Reaper76 as a background ship, Slow Burn, tags to be added to, youtube au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sovereign_Tea/pseuds/Sovereign_Tea
Summary: It all started when his adoptive sister Sombra entered them in a makeup contest on a famous youtuber's channel. Next thing McCree knows is that his summer is taking an interesting turn, and he's managed to meet the most beautiful man he's ever seen.





	1. Is That A Sword?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi-ho! Welcome to the most random fic I've ever written. I had been talking with a friend about Genji's in game eyeliner (go look at his young model and tell me he doesn't have sharp eyeliner). And then, not even a week later, I see this post on tumblr: 
> 
> http://tealbruise.tumblr.com/post/159339926304/your-favourite-beauty-guru-genji-shimada
> 
> And I said. O.M.G. Now I HAVE to write it. I used Genji's youtube name from the post linked above, as well as the idea tealbruise drew for the first chapter. 
> 
> Honestly, this is just a fic I try to write to get me out of my depression, so I have no idea when it will update, but its meant to be fun. Tags will be added to as I go, but for not I do not have a set "this is what's going to happen" thought out. The rating might go up due to Hanzo and Jesse getting risky :3c There will also be other minor ships that pop up as well. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Jesse—dammit, can you come here?”

The cowboy in question came strolling into his adoptive sister’s room, spurs jingling, sipping on a cup filled high with sweet tea. It was his first week back at home after graduating from photography school, and boy, northerners had _not_ appreciated sweet tea like people down south. Not that D.C. was very south at all. But that just happened to be where their dad, Gabriel, had been stationed for the past five years. In any case, he was glad for the A/C and the sweet tea. It was good to be home. Home was a rather ritzy town house nestled between others just like it, provided by the government so Jesse’s militarily important dad could stay close. It was close to plenty of shops, but it was tucked back on a relatively quiet street, out of the main hustle bustle of the main D.C. streets.

As he walked pasted his room in favor of seeing what his sister wanted he could faintly hear music playing downstairs as Gabe got dinner started—no doubt something spicy enough to make him almost miss the bland food from the university. Almost. Not that he didn’t like spicy food—he was originally from Santa Fe after all, but Gabe _loved_ spices to an almost inhuman extent.

                “What y’ need?”

Sombra sat in front of her brightly lit vanity, back to the door. She was a short girl with tan skin not unlike both McCree and Gabe, long black hair with streaks of purple through it and matching purple contacts. Her laptop was on and to the side of her vanity, paused on a YouTube video, while directly in front of her she had laid out an assortment of makeup. Primers, moisturizers, q-tips, eyeliner, eyeshadow palettes, eyelashes, glue, brushes---it was a _lot_ of makeup; Jesse could only wonder how much her collection had cost, especially since he recognized some of the bottles as brand name. The entire layout of the makeup on the table was almost picture perfect, making Jesse want to run and grab his camera.  When she turned around to finally face him Jesse couldn’t help but give a laugh.

                “Don’t you dare laugh.”

                “What happened t’ your—“       

                “ _Don’t_ ,” she hissed angrily. The foundation looked perfect, her eyeshadow was a purple smoky eye, but…While her right eye had the perfect cat’s eye done in black eyeliner, her left one looked like she had sneezed halfway through; the wing was crooked and squiggly. Jesse was having a hard time keeping his snickering to a minimum. “Can you _help_ me instead of just laughing?” she asked bitterly as scrubbed away the messed up wing with a qtip coated in makeup remover.

Jesse approached curiously. He set his cup of tea down and stole a glance at her computer. A green haired guy with a visor that was pushing up his bangs was holding a sword to his face just shy of his eye while applying eyeliner in a crisp line using his other hand. The cowboy’s eyebrows flew up.

                “Don’t tell me y’ have a sword layin’ ‘round too—“

                “Very funny.”

                “Now, how do y’ expect me t’ help—“

His sister sighed heavily. “I just need you to match this eye,” she said, pointing at her already done eye. With her purple acrylic nails reached forward, picking up a small glass pot filled with black gel eyeliner and then an angled brush.

Ever the smart ass, as Jesse took the eyeliner he asked, “Where’s the sword?”

                “Just—“

                “Alright, alright! Hold still.” It struck him as a little ironic—he was a photography student, _she_ was the aspiring makeup artist, and yet here he was, trying to find a comfortable grip in his large man hands for the thin brush.

Jesse McCree was a simple man. A little over six foot tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and an average guy from Santa Fe by all accounts. He enjoyed pizza, beer, watching football, and snapping pictures. Sometimes if he was feeling more adventurous, he would go down to the gun range with his pistol and take some shots at targets. He didn’t wear makeup. But he did have an eye for precision, color and was in possession of a very steady hand. He pulled up a chair and positioned Sombra to face him. With her eyes closed he dabbed into the black gel of the pot before pressing it gently against the lid, starting a little up from the tear duct, swiping across to the corner. He re-dabbed and stared making the angle for the wing. He paused a couple times, checking the degree of the other side. It wasn’t hard—just had to make it match.

                “Open your eyes—“ Sombra’s eyes fluttered open and he inspected them. He made a slight adjustment before motioning her to look in the mirror.

Her face was hardly displeased. “Hey, not bad,” she murmured as she turned her head back and forth to the side.

                “It’s almost like I used a sword.” Sombra rolled her eyes in reply to her brother. She took back the eyeliner before reaching for a similar pot colored cream. McCree watched with slight interest. Where was she doing to put that? When she began tracing her waterline he cringed. “Y’ ever poke yer eye?”

He hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she finished lining the bottom portion of both her eyes and she gave a heavy sigh. “No. I’m careful not to.”

Jesse watched intently as she reached for mascara. “And tha’ goes on t’ lashes?”

                “Yeah?”

                “Hmm.”

She got through one eye before she had to pull the wand away so she could roll her eyes at him. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

                “It doesn’t seem too difficult is all,” he said carefully—after all he didn’t want to insult the profession she wanted to go into.

                “You think you could do my entire face?” she half laughed, filled in eyebrow raised.

The cowboy shrugged, turning his eyes towards her table of products. “If you teach me what each one does I think I could.” He turned his attention back to the paused video. “What’s up with him?”

                “That’s Genji Shimada,” Sombra explained. With her eyes done she moved onto her contouring and highlighting. Now _that_ Jesse knew about because it helped with shadows when he was taking pictures of people. “He’s a Japanese makeup artist.”

                “And the sword?”

                “A joke. Someone asked him how he gets his wings so straight, so he released this video.” She caught the look of skepticism on Jesse’s face and elaborated, “I was just watching because I liked the outcome…not that I wanted to use a sword.”

Jesse took up a seat on the edge of her bed, watching her as she swished a powder brush in bronzer. Sombra sucked in her cheeks gaunt and while looking in the mirror began brushing along just under her jaw bone to accentuate it. “He sounds like a whack job.”

His sister snorted a careful laugh, going to re-dip into the bronzer. “He seems sweet. Always laughing, making jokes…I wouldn’t mind meeting him.”

Makeup was tedious—that much Jesse learned quickly. The questions rolled in one after another as Sombra used this product and that, different colors, different brushes. There was just _so much_ it was mind blowing.

                “I don’t even have that much,” Sombra said much to her brother’s disbelief, “Some people are collectors. They like the packaging and such.” To prove her point she pulled up one of Genji’s ‘decluttering’ videos. In it, he went through his filming room and all the cabinets and boxes inside it, sorting out all of the makeup he owned, deciding what he used and what he needed to make new videos for, as well as what makeup needed to be tossed out or donated.

                “Holy shit, y’ weren’t kiddin’!” By the end Genji had a shopping bag full of all sorts of makeup of various brands that he was going to do giveaways for or donate to charity.

                _“I’m going to be giving all of this away to a couple lovely followers! Just put up a vid of a non makeup wearer doing your makeup—boyfriend, mom, brother, neighbor, anyone!—and tag me in it! I’ll pick out who I liked best and send you some goodies!”_

Jesse looked over at his sister. “Hey, y’ wanna do it?”

Her face lit up, first with disbelief, then happiness. “Would you? I could use some of the stuff he’s tossing…”

The photographer tipped up the cowboy hat he was wearing with his thumb. “As long as y’ let me take some face shots for my portfolio.”

Sombra was quick to wash off her face. All the hard work she had done ended up on a face wipe—“it looks like a clown threw up!”—and started a clean slate. Jesse threw himself into the endeavor with thinly veiled enthusiasm. Between the two of them they set up several cameras to catch different angles. Step by step Sombra walked her brother through the steps of creating her face. When Gabe came in to tell them dinner was ready, he found Jesse with brush in hand, dusting brightening powder under Sombra’s eyes, chatting to the camera about how nice everything smelled and how pretty all the colors were. The military man lingered in the door, noting the recording equipment. He smirked to himself and quietly withdrew; they would come down to eat when they were done.

 It took a couple days to edit all the angles together to make a good step-by-step makeup tutorial, but once it was done, Jesse loomed over Sombra’s shoulder as she posted it on YouTube, tagging “@beautyninja” as part of his contest. Jesse didn’t want to admit it out loud, but doing up Sombra’s face had been…relaxing. There was something about applying the colors and powders and such that was calming, almost like painting.

When he told her as much she barked out a laugh. “You might be appearing in more of my vids then, _hermano_.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was late at night when a ping went off on Genji’s personal computer. He spun around in his desk chair from where he had been watching his older brother play on the ps4 behind him, only to see a notification that someone name ‘purplehacker’ had tagged him in a video.

                “And the submissions are still pouring in!” he commented to his brother who only huffed in reply. It had been two weeks since he had posted that he was doing a giveaway for some of his makeup, and the time to submit was almost done. Between him and his brother they had sifted through what felt like hundreds of videos from people around the world—mainly from women, but with a surprising amount of dudes sprinkled happily in. The latest one was from America.

And what a submission. The green haired makeup artist watched the girl with the undercut sit there as her brother dolled her up with perfected winged eyeliner, sparkling highlighter, and purple lips and eyeshadow. Genji gave a low whistle as he listened to the southern drawl dripping from his lips as the man talked and laughed with his sister. He was asking question about what he was doing, giving Genji the impression he was a complete newbie—just like what he wanted.

                “Oh, Hanzo, I don’t know which is the work of art—“ he said as the video progressed, “the makeup on her face, or the man putting it there.”

Hanzo paused his game to look over at the screen. He was greeted by the sight of a man with broad shoulders, a plaid shirt that stretched across a thick chest, tan skin, brown eyes that looked honestly amused, and slightly curly hair that failed to hide golden earrings dangling from his lobes. Hanzo was about to say he wasn’t _that_ impressed, because he _wasn’t_ , when the man doing the makeup smiled.

                “What smile~” Genji all but purred.

The older of the two glanced away. “He seems alright—“

                “ _Look at him._ He’s gorgeous! He could be a model like you, Anija.”

A snort was all the reply Genji got before Hanzo was turning back around to his game. While Genji had made his fame on the internet doing a multitude of entertainments, Hanzo had become rather famous and wealthy modeling clothes. He was only 5’10”, but he sported a toned body—his plush pecs and buff arms being a fan favorite. Unlike Genji who dyed his hair and obnoxious lime green, Hanzo’s hair brushed his shoulder blades in a curtain of silky black strands. A blue and yellow tattoo of clouds and a dragon danced down his left arm, while piercings dangled from his ears. He was beautiful by all accounts, and Genji loved practicing makeup techniques on his slender, high cheekbone blessed face.

Genji was going to make further comments about the American when their dad stepped into the room. Well, not their biological dad, but a man that their father had entrusted to take care of the brothers when he passed. Jack Morrison was a fairly tall man, with fading blonde to gray hair, steely blue eyes, and a jaw bone that could cut a man—or so Genji liked to tease. The man was dressed ready for bed, and his slight scowl indicated Hanzo and Genji should being hopping into their own as well.

                “We have to be on a plane in ten hours, I hope you both will be up and ready,” he said groggily.

They had been spending time abroad in Gibraltar for Jack’s job with the U.S. military; their flight in the morning would send them back to his home in Washington D.C. so he could attend some important meetings in the upcoming days.

Hanzo shut off his ps4. “I am already packed.”

                “I wasn’t so much worried about _you_ ,” Jack said with a huff of a laugh.

Genji pouted. “Aw, no fair! I’m _mostly_ packed…”

* * *

 

 

He didn’t know why he cared so much. But honestly, if they _didn’t_ win that contest, Jesse felt as though he might feel personally slighted.

                “You’re competing with thousands of viewers around the world _hermano_ ,” Sombra said in an attempt to soothe his nerves. They both sat at her desk, her laptop open, waiting for a notification that the newest tutorial by dragonninja had been uploaded—a video in which the winner of his makeup giveaway was to be announced. “I never expect to win anything—“

                “But I did a damn good job, if I do say so myself!” Jesse huffed.

_Ping!_

Sombra scrambled to click the notification, nearly falling out of her chair in the process. “He uploaded!”

An intro played when the video was clicked—a cute cartoon noodle like dragon running across a desk, sending compacts, bottles, and brushes flying, while a green haired cartoon doodle of dragonninja tried to catch him. When the episode started the viewer was treated to a view of a hustling airport packed with people.

                _Hi there! Welcome back to my channel!_ Dragonninja gestured around. Most of the signs were in English or Spanish, something Sombra pointed out. _As you can see, I’m not in my makeup studio. My brother, dad, and myself are leaving Gibraltar, and are off to visit the United States! So exciting! I’ve been a couple times, but I always love returning—to stock up on makeup._ The camera panned over to a graying man who was slouched back in the chair next to him, fast asleep. _Say hi to dad Youtube!_ On Dragonninja’s other side was his brother who looked uninterested and was doodling around on his phone. _Anija! Say hi to my fans!_ Hanzo grumbled something in Japanese that closed captioning translated to: ‘Get out of my face or I will smoosh you against the plane window.’ _Now, I know you all are super excited for the results of my giveaway. And here are the results!_ He cleared his throat dramatically, causing his brother (his hot brother, Jesse noted to himself) to roll his eyes. _For the first prize is ‘tickingtimebomer’_ _from England! She had her girlfriend do her makeup…link down in the description. Congrats! Second prize goes to…’playingwithportals42’ from India! Well done! She had a coworker do her look…also linked in the description. Now, for the big prize, of the big haul…boy, when I say I wanted a cold glass of…what was it Hanzo?_ The brother named Hanzo rolled his eyes and said something in Japanese. _Yeah…Ice tea. The entry that stole my heart was from ‘purplehacker’ with her southern charmer of a brother doing her makeup. That tutorial made my jaw DROP_.

Jesse’s ear popped when Sombra screamed.

                “JESSE THAT’S US!”

The cowboy jumped up, slamming the pause button on the computer. “Really?!”

                “Yes!!”

The siblings hugged each other and hopped up and down. Jesse could count on one hand all the times he had won something, whether it was a lottery winning or just a door prize; to win a competition based on a talent (or lack there of) was thrilling. And for this youtuber to link his and Sombra’s video on his own channel…that made him swell with pride. Jesse was the one to unpause the video so they could hear more.

 _The technique was beautiful for a beginner—you even impressed Anija—_ Hanzo whipped around, cheeks pink. _He did no—_ Genji panned the camera closer to himself the squeeze Hanzo out of frame. _Anyway! ‘Purplehacker’, you win the big prize! All winners, anticipate an email within the next…five hours or so (that’s how long the flight is I think) with further details!_ There was an announcement in the background that had Hanzo reaching behind Genji to shake their dad awake. _That’s the queue for boarding! I’ll talk to you all later my dears! Bye bye!_

* * *

 

It was two hours later Sombra got the email. Sombra read it aloud to Jesse. In it he congratulated them on winning, and praised several techniques of Jesse when doing Sombra’s makeup, noting that for a man that had never touched a makeup brush in his life, had done the full face better than a lot of girls could.

Then Sombra paused and clapped a hand over her mouth. Jesse raised his brow. “What’s wrong?”

                “ _Jesse!”_

_‘I couldn’t help but notice the mailing address you gave me for the makeup you won was in Washington D.C. That is actually where I am heading with my dad and brother! I would love to meet up with the both of you to give you your prize in person, as well as to maybe do lunch. My brother and I will be looking for company while we’re in D.C for the summer!’_

                “Genji Shimada wants to meet us!” Sombra was beside herself, going so far as to hop up and flop on her bed only to roll on it rapidly.

Jesse pushed his hat up with his thumb. “That would be…cool. I’ve never met anyone famous before.”

Sombra flew up off her bed in order to reply to the email.

 

* * *

 

Genji and Hanzo trailed behind their father as they exited the plane and headed through the American airport towards baggage claim. While Hanzo said silent prayers that his gaming consoles were untouched, Genji was praying for his duffle bag of makeup. If one glass foundation bottle broke…it would be a tragedy. As they walked the youtube star checked his email and immediately saw a reply from purplehacker. His eyes scanned it quickly as they approached the conveyer belt of bags. Hanzo was quick to grab Genji’s pack followed by his own while Jack hunted down the rest.

The green haired man smirked, drawing his brother’s attention. “What is so funny?”

                “I got us a date Anija~”

 


	2. Needy Siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect to get so many hits on this fic, or such a positive reaction! Thank you everyone who commented and left a kudos on chapter 1! I was able to actually type up this chapter pretty quickly since I was hope, but don't get used to the upload speed. Ha ha. 
> 
> As always, you can check me out at on tumblr :)

                “Sombra, what in tarnation are y’ doin’?” Jesse had been on his way back up to his room, camera in hand from taking some shots out in the yard (Gabe had planted a bunch of flowers a couple weeks prior and they looked very colorful and stunning now that they were in full bloom), when he caught sight of Sombra in her own room. She had a ton of outfits—mostly in shades of black—strewn across her floor in no discernable pattern. Tops, jeans, skirts, dresses, socks, scarves, you name it, created a fabric sea around his sister. Meanwhile she looked like she was fretting. “Y’ lose somethin’?”

His sister was standing amongst the chaos, eyes surveying all the clothing littered about. “Jesse, I’m _worried_.”

He tipped up his cowboy hat, taking her comment as an invitation to step (carefully) into the warzone of clothes with her. “ ‘Bout what? Y’ finally think it’s time t’ wear somethin’ other than blac—“

          “We’re going to meet a famous Youtuber!” She tried not to hiss it out angrily. “There is a high chance that when we meet him that there are going to be _pictures_ taken of us.”

          “So?” Jesse didn’t seem to catch her train of thought.

          “ _So?_ I want to look good!” Sombra exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “Of all people, you should understand wanting to look good in photos. And since he’s famous, he’ll probably share them to his Facebook, Instagram…” She shuttered. “I go to beauty school in the fall, Jesse. If someone were to recognize me as ‘that unstylish girl that met Genji Shimada’…”

Jesse tried not to chuckle. “I see. I see.”

Sombra crossed her arms over her chest. “I…I just want to make a good impression is all. Especially since he’s a makeup artist and his brother is a damn _model_.”

That had Jesse’s interest perked. “A model? Like a clothes model?” He had been looking into having a model or two for some pictures for his portfolio, but he didn’t know anyone besides Sombra willing to pose for him. He had been considering asking his friend Lena, who was a friend he made in photography school, to borrow her girlfriend—who often modeled in Lena’s own pictures—but the two lived across the ocean in England.

          “Yea…hold on.” Sombra reached for her phone on the edge of her desk.

 It took only a moment of clicking through some pages on Instagram to pull up Genji’s brother, Hanzo Shimada, and his Instagram. The Instagram of ‘SakeArcher’ displayed a man who seemed completely comfortable, if not smug in his own skin. Jesse recognized him slowly as the man that had been sitting next to Genji in the video filmed at the Gibraltar airport. He looked completely different in these pictures versus the video Genji has posted. At the airport he had seemed tired, aggravated, like he had missed his morning cup of coffee. In these, the lighting caught on his sharp jawline and high cheek bones, his skin seemed to glow, and his eyes were dark and alluring. All the clothes he was wearing were tagged in the comments, and all were high price designers like Gucci, Louis Viton, Dior, Kors, Yohji Yamamoto, and some Jesse had never even heard of. Then there were some Jesse noted were photos from perfume ads and underwear ads, in which Hanzo displayed his bare upper half. His neck muscles were slender yet defined, leading down to a just pronounced enough clavicle that sat above two plush looking pecs that Jesse thought absent mindedly about touching. His abs were nothing to scoff at either; they weren’t as deep set looking as a body builder, but they translated well onto photo saying he was probably someone who worked out a little or at the very least watched his diet. But perhaps his most trademark feature was the intricate blue and yellow dragon tattoo that started where his left pec blended towards his shoulder, and coiled down his arm to his wrist. Even in more candid and daily photos that weren’t ads but merely a look into the model’s life, the man looked like a walking god, especially with the silky black hair trailing past his shoulders.

 _God, he’s breathtaking_. Jesse tried not to drool as Sombra blabbered on about what he was wearing, and how expensive such a wardrobe would be. The photographer in him marveled at the angles the shadows on Hanzo’s body created, how stunning his hair shined in the light, and frankly, just how damn gorgeous he was. _What I wouldn’t do to be his photographer,_ he thought for a moment.

          “—rth to Jesse!” Jesse became suddenly aware he had been zoning out when Sombra began snapping her fingers in his face. With a scowl she continued. “So what I’m saying is, we should _totally_ go clothes shopping…so I have cute stuff to wear.”

          “Whatever floats yer boat _._ ” He wasn’t about to fight her—the last time he had suggested not going clothes shopping he had gotten the cold shoulder for several days; it was best just to let her do her. “Lemme guess…y’ want me to drive y’ around.”

Sombra laced her fingers together, bringing them up under her chin and giving her older brother her biggest puppy dog eyes. “If you would, you would be the bestest brother _ever_!”

Jesse sighed. “I’m yer only brother…”

          “Plus, you could probably use some new clothes too.” Sombra reached forward, plucking at the faded gray t-shirt he had on while she feigned disgust. “When was the last time you upgraded _your_ wardrobe?”

He had least had to try and look offended. He lightly swatted her hand away from his Iron Maiden shirt—the band’s name having almost completely faded across his chest. It had definitely seen better days—hadn’t it been black at some point? And where had that hole come from? For a moment he thought it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but then he thought of the model and all his gorgeous pictures… “Alright, alright. I’ll go with y’. And maybe get stuff for me too.”

Sombra clapped her hands together excitedly. “Alright! Let me get read—“ She paused, before slowly looking down at the clothes at her feet. “Um…you want to help me pick all this up first…?”

* * *

 

The following day saw sunny early June day in D.C., and Jesse was spending it tooling around the busy capitol in his old silver mustang, Sombra in the front seat attempting to create a cute Snapchat story about her shopping escapades. They had hit several stores in the morning while most people were at work or still asleep, only stopping to break for a brief lunch of McDonald’s. As the day wore on, Jesse was realizing just how much he had missed hanging out with his sister while he had been up in New York for school. Of course he had had Lena to keep him company, and touring the Big Apple had been one adventure after another, but there was a sweet familiarity in rolling down the busy streets of D.C. that New York City had lacked.

They saved their most promising shop for last. Tucked between a shoe store and a coffee shop was a cute brick and mortar store with a large sign across the top of its façade advertising “Scarab Clothing Inc.” in gold, with a gold beetle beside it. Walking through the front door the siblings tripped the small bell. A female’s voice floated up from a back room, “I’ll be with you in just a second!” 

The store hadn’t changed much since Jesse had last been up to visit for spring break. The floor was made of dark hardwood with a dark red carpet creating a runway of sorts from the door, angled to the right sharply, the down towards the far right wall, creating an aisle dividing the “women’s” and “missus”, and “men’s” clothing before ending at the fitting rooms. Small glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each adorned with a hanging gold scarab. The walls displayed advertisements for their brand of clothing as well as pictures of famous models, celebrities, and the such that had come in shopping posing with the owner. Music played a pop song faintly overhead.

Sombra and Jesse paused at the front counter where the cash registers were, looking around. Clusters of women were moving through the display racks, pulling out articles of clothing to show to one another, others merely thumbing through looking for the right size. When the siblings had first started shopping at this store, it had been a little known place, but within half a decade it had becoming a good dupe store for some of the infamously expensive brands those in Hollywood wore.

From the back the woman who had called to them came running out, obviously in a rush. She was tall for a woman, slightly muscular, with dark skin and eyes, the latter being lined with thick black eyeliner. Her hair was only to a little past her ears, angled forward with two small braids on either side of her face holding some gold beads. She somehow made the dark blue cocktail-esque dress that was the store’s uniform look very upscale and stylish despite it being plain.

          “I’m sorry, I—“

Jesse waved her off with a cheery smile. “Hey Fareeha.”

The girl stopped just behind the counter and stared at the familiar face, a smile slowly building up. “Jesse? Jesse McCree! You’re back from school and didn’t tell me?” She came around in a hustle and gave him a quick hug before doing the same for Sombra. “Your sister has been good about keeping in contact with me… _you_ on the other hand…”

Fareeha had been his first friend when Gabe adopted him years ago. Gabriel had met Fareeha’s mother when they were in active military duty back in the day, and from the day Fareeha had been born forward he had been considered her “Uncle Gabe”. Even now that Gabe had took a more desk type job and Ana had quit entirely to open the clothing store, they kept in close contact, often having dinner together. It had gone without saying that Jesse and Sombra had both become close with Ana’s daughter.

Jesse laughed her off. “I’m sorry. If it makes it any better, I haven’t been home long.”

The girl shook her head at him before punching him in the shoulder, making him wince slightly. Not many people knew, but aside from running the fashion store with her mom, Fareeha had also taken up boxing, and was pretty damn good at it. “That _doesn’t_ make it better,” she huffed, but slowly broke into another smile. “But it’s good to see you, Meat Head.”

          “Its good t’ see y’ too, Rocket Queen.” That was the name she went by during her matches.

          “Now…what do I owe the unexpected surprise?” A group of girls carrying clothes was making their way to the front, so Fareeha had to step away and back around the counter to ring them out.

          “We’re out shopping for clothes,” Sombra explained. “We’re going to be meeting Genji Shimada this summer and—“

          “Wait, _the_ Genji Shimada?” Fareeha asked excitedly as she rang up the first girl.

          “Wait, you know of ‘im?” Jesse pushed the brim of his hat up. He had never heard of the man in his life before that video Sombra showed him, and yet Fareeha knew him right away.

          “Of _course_ I know of him. He’s one of my favorite Youtubers!” She paused their conversation just long enough to ask the girl checking out if she found everything okay, and if she was using cash or credit. “I can see why you would be here then.”

The comment rubbed at Jesse. “Aw, don’t tell me y’ think I look bad too—“

          “I didn’t say that,” she hissed at him before wishing the first girl a good day. “I’m just saying, an upgrade wouldn’t _hurt._ ”

Sombra clicked her tongue at her brother in triumph, causing him to pout slightly and cross his arms. “We’re going to look around then…”

* * *

 

Nearly an hour later found Jesse coming out of the fitting rooms to model for Sombra who was standing there with a bunch of clothes on hangers that she was going to buy. While her choices were more trendy and in Jesse’s opinion, “club ready”, Jesse had chosen more modest clothes. And by that, he meant a lot of t-shirts that felt soft and even more button up shirts to put unbuttoned over said shirts.

His sister rolled his eyes at him as he came out in another button up, this one blue plaid instead of red. “You. Are. Hopeless.”

          “What do y’ mean!?” he spluttered. “They look fine—“

          “They all look the same!” She cursed under her breath in Spanish. Just as he was about to hiss at her not to use that words with him, she handed him another shirt on a hanger. “Try this one on.”

          “But why—“

          “ _Humor me.”_

Jesse sulked back into the dressing room, quickly disrobing of the blue shirt. The one Sombra had picked out was indeed different. It was black, slim fitting, and…sleeveless? _Hm, I’ve never had a sleeveless before_. It was black and soft, with a kangaroo like pocket in the front and a hood in the back, while the collar line dipped down to show the first little bit of his hair covered chest. A gold scarab decorated most of the back. He studied himself in the mirror once he slipped it on. He had to admit, it was _different_ , but it didn’t look bad; it was a bit clingier than anything else he owned, but not absurdly so. He came out of the dressing room with his hands shoved in the pockets, a dusting of pink blush across his cheeks. Sombra, who had been joined by Fareeha, perked up.

          “Holy hell,” Fareeha said, an amused smile on her lips, “something other than a damned t-shirt.”

          “Now wait just a—“

          “It looks good,” Sombra said, beaming with pride. She turned to Fareeha. “You got any other recommendations..?”

And that was how Jesse McCree came out of the store over two hundred dollars poorer, but twice as fashionable than when he entered.

* * *

 

Unpacking had been a pain in the ass. Hanzo lingered in his brother’s doorway, watching as he unzipped yet another bag, this one full of his foundation.

          “Thank god, none of them broke,” the younger brother sighed in relief. That would have been a huge headache and mess. It was bad enough two of his eyeshadow palettes hadn’t survived the trip, and a couple of his lipsticks melted.

After landing in the United States, it had been a short drive from the airport to the D.C. home of Jack Morrison—the one he used when he had to return to D.C. for military affairs. All their furniture had been covered up with white sheets since they had last been there several years before for a brief stay, and it take nearly two days to just get the furniture cleaned off and some of it set back up again. Then there was the adjustments to Genji’s furniture in his room that had to be done to accommodate his ever growing makeup collection. Not that he had been the only one with more stuff; Hanzo had to find a couple portable wheeled hanger carts to hang more of his clothes on that wouldn’t fit in his closet.

Genji had managed to get his computer gear set up quickly so he could update his followers with a quick “I landed safely” video, but other than that, neither brother had much downtime to relax. Jack had taken a couple days off from work to make sure the house was suitable to live in, but he was set to return to work the next day. Hanzo watched with critical eyes as Genji moved the bottles, tubes, and glass containers of various foundations over to his desk, only to sort them out and put them on display on another table.

          “I think you are due for another declutter,” Hanzo stated.

Genji threw a hand over his heart. “ _Another_? I _just_ did one—“

          “You have too much—“

The younger brother’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Do not start that argument _Anija_. Or I will go after your designer clothes—“

Hanzo grimaced. “Point taken.” He did have quite the collection of clothes that he had obtained either through PR or his own purchases. He couldn’t think of a single shirt, shoe, or sock he wanted to part with at the moment. He moved fully into Genji’s room, going over to pick up a brightly colored bottle of foundation labeled ‘tarte’. “You are due for an upload in two days.”

Genji rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me! I don’t know what I’m going to do…” He was still waiting for his PR mail to catch up to his new address. And that probably wouldn’t happen for another couple days at the earliest. So he had no unboxing videos…and he hadn’t been wearing makeup during the move, so he had no first impression videos lined up either. He supposed he could just blog about the move…

          “Hm…well, have you done a ‘favorites’ for May yet?” Hanzo suggested. He kept up with his brother’s uploads, even if he pretended not to care.

          “I think I already—“ Genji stopped mid-sentence, drawing Hanzo’s attention away from the foundation bottle he was studying. The younger Shimada was standing in front of his full length mirror, face only a breath away from the polished surface, fingers threading through his short lime green hair. Just as Hanzo was about to ask, Genji groaned. “Oh my god, my roots are showing again.”

It took a little squinting, but Hanzo could just barely the black hair poking up just barely from his scalp.

          “I’m going to have to re-dye—“

          “Do _not_ even entertain that thought,” Hanzo snapped. He approached his brother. With careful fingers he threaded them through the short strands of green. “You just dyed it not two weeks ago. Your hair already feels like it is becoming brittle. Have you been using the conditioner?”

          “But—“

          “Do you _want_ your hair to fall out? Because that is what will happen if you keep dyeing it.”

Genji gave a pathetic whine before plopping down in his desk chair. Hanzo watched his brother continue to thread his hands through his hair sadly before he finally sighed and pulled out his phone, clicking to his friend’s Instagram. Hanzo had met Amelie “Widowmaker” when they had both been modeling in Paris a few years back, and instantly had hit it off with the highly sarcastic woman. For Genji he brought up a short video preview for a video she did where she was displaying a small jar filled to the brim with silver glitter.

His younger brother sniffled but attention perked. “What’s this?” He had always been a sucker for glitter.

          “Amelie tested out this stuff…I do not remember the brand, but it was super long lasting clubbing glitter—“

          “Like what strippers use?”

Hanzo deadpanned. “I…suppose. Regardless…”

He pointed to a section in the preview where she was raking it through her long black hair. Genji wasn’t impressed at first. But then she started moving her hair back and forth underneath the lights and everything _glittered_. Genji’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide and enthralled by what he was seeing. “She looks like a fairy!”

          “Perhaps you could use this in your hair,” Hanzo suggested. “It would add something extra while not requiring you to re-dye.”

The hug Hanzo received was not unexpected. “This is great! Thank you so much~ I recognize the brand…I’m sure I can find it in a drugstore around here…” He bolted over to his messenger back, making sure his wallet was inside before shrugging it on. In his over eagerness he didn’t seem to mind that he hadn’t done much that day but put on a t-shirt and shorts, and brush his hair. “I’ll be back Hanzo. Then _we_ film.”

Hanzo watched him leave sourly. He _did not_ like the sound of that.  

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to RogueAngel87 for her headcanon/idea about Genji's hair (you can read it as a comment on chapter one) that she let me use. I absolutely love it. Look for more of it in the next chapter when dragonninja uploads~


	3. The 2:00am YouTube Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've all been there. You can't sleep. It's 2:00am. What do you do?
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are welcome, and you can always check me out on tumblr. @ sinningtea.

Even though Jesse had been home from university for a couple weeks, his sleep schedule was still rather out of whack. The photographer was used to taking classes at all hours of the day, having to go on shoots at various hours just to get the lighting right, using the early hours of the morning to develop film rolls, and of course there were the wild parties. Trying to get back into a normal sleep schedule was a slow process. Even when he was busy all day running errands and going on shoots he never felt tired. For example, Gabe had him running all over D.C. picking stuff up for him—including lunch to run him at work, and yet he was still not tired. So it was no surprise when he found himself still wide awake, even as the clock beside his bed read 2:00am. Gabriel and Sombra were already asleep in their own beds, Gabe having to work in the morning, and Sombra getting ready for a day out with Fareeha, so Jesse had to be mindful of his noise.

His laptop sat atop his blanket covered knees as he surfed the internet, the glow from his screen the only source of light in his otherwise dark room. He slowly uploaded pictures he had been taking around the neighborhood up onto his blog and portfolio, checked his email—hoping for a call back from a client. But it wasn’t long before his mind was wandering off of work, and as it happened with many people up in the wee hours of the morning, Jesse found himself scrolling through YouTube. Jesse surfed through his subscriptions; these including cooking videos, science fun facts, dog videos (which were better than cat videos in his humble opinion), and his guilty pleasure—a pair of Australians who had a “Jack Ass”—esque channel in which the skinnier one usually showed off things exploding while his much bigger friend silently pointed to signs describing what his friend was doing and to “not try any of this at home”.

As he finished up with the latest ‘RoadRatDownUnder’ vid, an idea hit him. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating before finally typing into the search bar. After hitting enter, the channel of ‘beautyninja’ popped up, displaying what seemed like hundreds of videos. The videos ranged from daily blogs, unboxing hauls, declutters, tutorials on certain looks, and something called ‘CCGRWM’. Jesse supposed if he was to meet this guy and his brother, he should at least know what the man does, right? But where to start? Should he start with the oldest uploads? Or should he start with more recent ones? He had already seen his tutorial using a sword to do his eyeliner...

                “I guess I’ll just….blind pick.”

The one he clicked on first was an older video where the green haired man was in a room piled high with boxes and packages of various colors. In it, after the cute cartoon intro (which seemed to be a staple for his channel along with a sing-song ‘welcome back to my channel’) he explained how different makeup companies would send him promotional items to test out and how he had been out of country for a bit so all the mail stock piled. Some of the brands he revealed to the camera were Japanese ones that Jesse had never seen or heard of before, but other brands like YSL and Chanel he recognized from Sombra’s “Don’t Touch They’re Expensive” collection. As Jesse watched the over fifteen minute video of the Japanese makeup artist un-packaging and showing off product, he became stunned at just the sheer amount of things he was sent by different companies, all just for promos, and how much it all must _cost_. After Genji showed off some sort of crème like gel—which did something to “prime” the look, whatever that meant—that smelled like coconut. Jesse out of curiosity googled the product, then promptly choked on his tongue.

                “Forty four dollars!? For that little thing?” And the man had just received it in the mail _for free_. All he had to do was use it on his channel and give his thoughts. And it didn’t stop there. He received designer sunglasses, false lashes, pictures from fans, cute shirts, everything under the sun it seems.

_No wonder he has all these decluttering videos…_

The next one Jesse clicked on randomly wasn’t a normal tutorial.

                ‘ _Hey YouTube! Today Hanzo has a day off his glorious modeling job, and agreed to help me with a new tutorial for you all!’_ Genji chirped happily. He stood beside his older brother who was sitting on a stool in front of a table (presumably covered in makeup products), looking like a true model under excellent filming lighting. His hair was pulled back in a pony tail that rested down his shoulder, and Genji had dressed him in a silky robe like shirt the color of poppies. ‘ _It’s almost like a low key cosplay_ ,’ the makeup artist said with a wink--a wink that sent his brother rolling his eyes. Jesse didn’t know what Genji was talking about, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the open front of the robe which revealed very nice pecs and a lovely dip of a collarbone. ‘ _So today,_ ’ Genji continued, “ _the theme is red for Valentine’s Day—cliché right?_ ”

Jesse watched for the better part of fifteen minutes as Genji transformed his brother. The photographer took note that it seemed like his process for doing makeup, as in the sequence of his steps, followed pretty much the same order as Sombra used, but the products and colors varied. Which made sense considering Sombra was fairly darker than Hanzo, and Sombra didn’t have people sending her all the high end makeup products. As Genji went through the steps, he talked aloud, explaining each product, gave a price (in yen), and what his first impressions were of those he hadn’t tried before. First was a primer—the coconut one by Marc Jacobs, Jesse realized. Next came foundation—not that Hanzo needed it in Jesse’s humble opinion, because his skin looked flawless as it were.

                ‘ _Next, I’m going to contour a little, but since my brother already has such sharp features, I’m going to go in with a gentle hand—‘_

Genji wasn’t lying. Hanzo’s jawline was rather cut, with high cheekbones that naturally gave a slight jaunt appearance to his cheeks.

                ‘ _And a little blush right on the apples of the cheek…Come on Too Faced…’_

With a slight swirl of the pink in the small heart shaped palette onto his brush, Genji swept it along the rounded part of Hanzo’s cheek, making him almost look like a blushing maiden. And for some reason it made Jesse’s heart skip a beat. Meanwhile Hanzo sat in the stool, allowing for his brother to reposition his face to apply the makeup as well as show different angles. Hanzo didn’t look bored per say, just professional as if this was just another job. 

                ‘ _Next I have this rosy, Champaign colored highlighter…time to highlight to the gods! Now if you want something less…blinding you can—‘_

Genji went on to talk about other brands and dupes for the high end product in his hands, currently illuminating the cheek bones and cupid’s bow of his brother, but Jesse only half heard, instead mesmerized by how the makeup made the light catch. He would have to remember this for any future models. Highlighter. Jesse’s eyes couldn’t leave the slight glimmer just above Hanzo’s lips—it held his attention more than anything else.

                ‘ _Hanzo here already has pretty full brows, so there’s no need for me to go in and color them, but if you want to do yours, by all means! So onto the eyes. Today, I’m going to take this eyeshadow palette by Anastasia of Beverly Hills…’_

What came next was just stunning. Using the different shades and tones in this palette, Genji went in with various types of brushes and created a red themed smoky eye that out did anything he had ever seen Sombra do. The precision in which he applied the color…the way he blended…it spoke volumes of his expertise and training. Hanzo all the while had his eyes closed, only occasionally opening them at Genji’s command so he could adjust the colors. Never in his life had Jesse felt so relaxed watching someone apply makeup—it wasn’t something he had ever considered relaxing, but it was like watching someone paint. A makeup Bob Ross perhaps. By the time Genji was pulling out the liquid eyeliner, Hanzo’s eyes looked smoky red and absolutely seductive. The eyeliner came out very cat-like and sharp (Jesse instantly recognizing this as the style Sombra always tried for), and when he went in for the mascara on the lashes, it made them look twice as long.

                ‘ _Alright, so eyes are done…now for the lips.’_ With a gentle hand he tilted Hanzo’s face up, explaining quickly about the dark red, almost vampy, red liquid lipstick he was applying. Jesse watched with held breath as the product coated wand slid across Hanzo’s smooth lips. ‘ _Now, my brother keeps his lips moisturized and_ perfect _as part of his skincare routine. So make sure, if you perhaps aren’t as diligent, to prime your lips before you apply your lipstick, or else the finish won’t looks as flawless. Now…done!”_

Hanzo looked like a red seductress, sitting, staring into the camera. His dark gold eyes still appeared a little too harsh for such a thing—as if he were eternally irritated, but at the same time Jesse found himself shifting under the gaze. He was gorgeous, almost predatory in his gaze. Jesse could only wonder if all Genji’s viewers felt the same about his beautiful brother.

 _No wonder he’s a model_. Jesse thought to himself.

 _‘Now to set the look…’_ Genji pulled a bottle from off camera and sprayed a mist all around his brother’s face while Hanzo’s eyes stayed shut. ‘ _And there you have it! The final look!_ ’ He turned to Hanzo, hugging him around the shoulders, making him grimace slightly. ‘ _Thank you so much for helping me out today_!”

And for the first time, Jesse heard him speak in English. “ _You are welcome_.” His voice was surprisingly deep, a grumbly sort of voice that was only a little higher pitched than Jesse’s own. His English was accented, more so than Genji’s, which gave him the impression he didn’t speak it much—although he could be wrong.

Genji chuckled at the camera, gesturing at Hanzo. ‘ _He hardly ever wears makeup other than some eyeliner, but when he does…!’_ At the alluded to compliment Hanzo looked away, as if embarrassed, and _that_ had Jesse’s heart melting.

It didn’t take long for Jesse to watch a couple more videos by Genji (ones he wouldn’t admit were because Hanzo was in the thumbnail). Finally, just before he was actually feeling tired and like he should go to sleep, he saw a newly posted video by Genji. Without hesitation he clicked on it. The title read, “Because Hanzo Told Me To, And Glitter Is Fun”.

The background for this video was different than the studio-like one of his earlier uploads. Now it looked like he had set up cameras in a bathroom—presumably at his new house—and he was sitting on a stool with a towel draped around his shoulders, his normal visor that he wore in all his videos missing.

                ‘ _Good evening everyone! You may be wondering why this doesn’t look like my studio. That’s because it’s not! You are currently in the bathroom at our American house!’_ It was a large looking bathroom; from the shot of Genji the viewer could see a large vanity and sink in the background along with a large bath, and the edge of a shower stall. Through a lone window, sunlight was streaming through, meaning this had been filmed in the morning.

Genji began gesturing at his hair and gently tugging at the short green strands. _‘As you can probably see, my roots are growing back in! Now, I was_ going _to re-dye it, but my brother threw a hissy fit.’_ From behind the camera (translated at the bottom of the video screen) came Hanzo’s grumble of, “I did not...” that had Jesse paying even closer attention. ’ _Anyway, he suggested something much more fun, inspired by his friend and fellow model, Amelie Lacroix. There’s a link down below to her video where she also uses this product. But…instead of me straight up dyeing my hair again, Hanzo is going to put glitter all in it! And I’m going to wear it all day, and come back with my thoughts on how it lasted.’_

The makeup artist read a little blurb about the product from off the company’s website before showing off jars about the size of an eyeliner gel pot. One container of sparkles was silver, the other a green darker than his hair. Hanzo uncapped the green goop of sparkles and scooped it out onto his finger liberally before threading his hands through Genji’s spiked locks. The sparkles came off easily enough, adding shimmers through his hair. Once Hanzo felt he had put in enough green, he did the same with the silver before whipping his hands off on a towel. Genji appeared to be looking in his computer’s voice finder, smile big as he turned his head this way and that in order to change the lighting to catch the sparkles.

                _‘I look so sparkly!’_ he said excitedly.

He began to explain that he was going to wear the glitter in his hair all day before coming back at the end of the video to give an update, but by the time he came back, Jesse had fallen asleep…completely missing footage of the green haired man making his way down a D.C. street, just missing a man in a cowboy hat ducking into a sandwich shop around noon time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes. 
> 
> 1\. ) About the Junkrat/Roadhog channel name. I don't necessarily ship them....I kind of do halfheartedly, but not really? It just seemed a fitting name.   
> 2.) CCGRWM--Chit Chat Get Ready With Me  
> 3.) The price for the coconut primer (Marc Jacobs Beauty Under(cover) Perfecting Coconut Face Primer) is legit. That's what Sephora sells it for. And god damn that's some $$$ imo.   
> 4.) The lowkey cosplay is....Koujaku from Dramatical Murder.   
> 5.) The sparkle in the hair tutorial is what was filmed when Genji came back at from his adventure at the end of the last chapter


	4. Hey I Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments guys. They really brighten my day :) I've been waiting to write this chapter for a day or two now; hope y'all enjoy!

Light was streaming in through the windows by the time Jesse awoke the next morning. His laptop was still open but off to the side, displaying a black screen from when it ran out of charge. With a groan he rolled out bed and padded over to his closet to throw on jean shorts and white shirt—the weather report had called for a hot one today, and knowing D.C., it wasn’t going to disappoint. Just as he was tugging the fabric over his head, he heard the familiar jingle of his cellphone going off where it rested by his bedside. Gabe’s grumpy face appeared on the screen as it continued to ring. With a tap on the green button he picked up the call, slipping into Spanish for his father.

          “Oh, look who’s actually awake,” Gabe teased when he heard the familiar ‘hola’.

Jesse rolled his eyes. A quick look at the clock on his desk read a little after eleven. “Lucky fer y’ I guess. Shouldn’t y’ be at work?”

          “I am.”

          “So…lemme guess…” Jesse was already grabbing his bag and tossing his wallet and some camera supplies into it. “Y’ need me t’ run y’ somethin’.”

Gabe gave a guilty sort of chuckle. Jesse had been with him since he was a small boy, of course he could read him like a book. “I uh, forgot my wallet at home.”

          “Y’ know, if they catch y’ drivin’ without yer license they can arrest y’ right?”

          “Why do you think I’m calling you? Can you please run it to me?” Jesse waited, falling into silence as he waited. Gabe had a sweet sort of sound to his words, which meant there was more to come.

          “And…?”

There was a sigh. “Ah…now that you mention it…Reinhardt decided to visit the office today…if you could bring us some lunch…”

          “There it is.”

          “Oh, don’t act like you know me—“

          “I do though, _papí_.” Jesse was always good at reading people—it was one of the things that had always amused Gabe. When Gabe had found him in Santa Fe while on a raid on a deadly gang, the boy had been maybe three. His parents had been taken away on massive arms charges as well as drugs and other gang related offenses, leaving the poor toddler by himself. The little brown haired child had taken to following Gabe around, showing him the gang’s hideout, chatting excitedly to the “officer” about all the cool hide and seek spots and where the big guys played games. In his kid speak he had babbled about how he liked Gabe and (declared with big sparkly eyes) he was a cool good guy. The team that had been with Gabe wouldn’t let him live it down, calling him Mr. Good Guy for weeks after the raid. It was no surprise to anyone when Gabe announced he would be adopting the kid since he had no family other than the mother and father that had been arrested. “I’ll be over as soon as I can. I’ll bring Rein something too.”

Jesse could hear the smile through the phone, “Thanks, _mijo_.”

The called ended, and Jesse went and searched for Gabe’s wallet—which he found on the kitchen table. He threw it in his bag along with some extra money, shot his sister a text about where he was headed, grabbed his hat, and with a cigarette on his lips he headed out of the house.

* * *

 

Jesse parked about a block away from the building where Gabe worked. There was an entire block full of different food places to choose from, with store for shopping crammed in between. His camera dangled from a thick strap around his neck while his bag hung off his shoulder, and with a slow pace—eyes scanning for good shots of city life—he made his way towards a sandwich shop that made really good subs. Cars crept by, stopping what seemed like every couple feet for either a pedestrian or a stop light, and the noise of hundreds of thousands of people living their life filled the city air. D.C. was a hot and noisy place in the summer, and Jesse would have it no other way.

As he made his way towards the sandwich shop--having only to run in and pick it up since he already ordered and paid over the phone--he noted a man up ahead in the walkway looking very confused; he gave Jesse the immediate impression he was from out of town and had no idea where he was. Jesse, being the good hearted gentleman that Gabe raised, approached with a big smile.

          “Howdy, y’ look lost can I—“

The man spun around at the voice, clearly startled that someone was talking to him, and when he did, Jesse’s voice caught in his throat. The man was _gorgeous._ His long black hair was up in a high pony tail, tied with a golden ribbon. Skinny black jeans clung to his slender legs, and a thin blue tank top attempted to cover his wide shoulders and thin waist. His eyes were a dark gold that, paired with his sharp eye shape, made him look like a predator despite clearly being taken by surprise. A small messenger back covered in a variety of pins hung from his shoulder…which was clearly tattooed with a blue and yellow dragon that stretched from the top of his left pec all the way down to his wrist.

Jesse blinked dumbly at the man who was merely staring back at him, obviously trying to not seem as nervous as he was. A cautious, “Um…” fell quietly in Japanese from the not-so-stranger.

          “Yer Hanzo Shimada,” Jesse said with slight amazement. God, he looked like even more of a model up close; the pictures and video somehow hadn’t done the man justice with just how beautiful he was.

Hanzo’s eyes widened then. “How do you know of me?” he demanded, face slowly shifting away from nervous to one of defensive caution.

The photographer lifted his hands up, a sign of goodwill, paired with what he hoped was a disarming smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean fer that t’ sound creepy or nothin’,” he said with a chuckle. “My sister watches yer brother’s channel…she’s the one that won the makeup giveaway.”

          “My brother’s…” Understanding finally dawned across Hanzo’s face. “Ah, yes, his giveaway.” His eyes flitted up Jesse, sizing him up. Jesse couldn’t tell if he was impressed, or disappointed—his face didn’t give much away that time. After he had given him the once over his eyes seemed to go anywhere _but_ the cowboy. “He did mention that the winners were in Washington.”

Jesse tipped his hat up slightly with his thumb, not sure what to make of the Japanese model before him other than ‘wow, goddamn’. “Yeah, he e-mailed my sister sayin’ y’all wanted to meet us in person t’ give her whatever she won.” He gave a chuckle that had Hanzo’s eyes back on him. “Didn’t think I would run into y’ before we even set a date.”

As Jesse watched with a light smile, he noted how nervous Hanzo seemed. In all his pictures—and even Genji’s videos—he had radiated such confidence, as if he could bend the very camera to his will to catch the best angles of his face and body. Yet, in person, he was shifting every so often from foot to foot, toeing the asphalt with the tip of his black flip flops, eyes scanning the traffic as if looking to bolt at any second, while his fingers toyed with the strap of his bag. He looked as if he was entirely uncomfortable in his own skin and wanted to disappear any moment.

 _He’s an interestin’ guy, that’s fer sure._ Jesse thought to himself, hoping that it wasn’t just Hanzo wanting to get away from _him_.

          “ Y’ headed somewhere?” Jesse asked. When Hanzo seemed almost alarmed, as if he had been found out, Jesse added, “I’ve been livin’ in D.C. a long time, n’ I can usually tell when someone is lost. Y’ look more lost than a needle in a hay stack.” Hanzo still hesitated to say more so Jesse continued with a soft, “I could point y’ in the right direction if y’ want.”

Maybe it was just the heat baking them since they weren’t in the shade, or maybe it was Jesse’s imagination, but it looked to him as if Hanzo’s cheeks turned really pink when he finally muttered, “Help…would be appreciated.” Jesse beamed, a big bright smile lighting up his face, urging Hanzo on for details. “I…am supposed to be meeting my brother for lunch…somewhere along here,” he said, gesturing at the huge block of buildings before him. “But I cannot seem to find the address, and my brother is not answering his phone.”

          “Aw shucks, that sucks. Do y’ know at least what the name of the place is?”

Hanzo fumbled with his phone (which Jesse saw was in a black and gold case that appeared to have the Chanel logo in the center), pulling up his texts with Genji. “Um…the ‘Zen Garden Café’?”

Jesse snapped his fingers. “I know exactly where that one is, darlin’. Lemme walk y’ there. It’ll be easier than just explain’, I promise.”

Hanzo seemed to war within himself for a brief moment before nodding, allowing Jesse to walk ahead of him slightly. They turned the exact opposite direction from which Hanzo was walking—which he seemed to huff at (obviously already having come from that direction). The smaller man struggled to keep up with Jesse’s long strides as they crossed through intersections to get further down the block.

          “It’s not too far down this way, maybe ‘bout another minute,” Jesse assured him.

The Japanese man nodded. Sweat was practically dripping down his temples as he growled out, “Is it always so god forsakenly hot here?”

Jesse barked out a laugh. “In the summer, yeah for the most part. Sometimes we get lucky and have a cooler summer, but all this concrete does nothin’ t’ cool us off.”

          “I must have forgotten this fact somehow,” Hanzo practically wheezed as they made their way into the shade cast by some of the buildings.

          “Forgotten? Y’ve lived been here before?”

Hanzo nodded, seeming to have eased up a little. “My father works here, so he has a town home. However, it has been many years since we have lived in it.”

          “Ah, that’s right, I think Genji mentioned that in one of his videos…” Jesse could vaguely recall an earlier video where Genji mentioned he was moving abroad for a number of years. They had bounced between England, Japan, China, Gibraltar, and even had a couple months where they had been in Greece. “All that traveling must be nice.” The photographer in him drooled at all the different photos he could have in his portfolio if he traveled even half as much as the Shimada brothers.

Hanzo shrugged. “I have work wherever my family takes me, so it is of no consequence to me.” He muttered out barely audible over the roar of the traffic to their side, “It is just a pain in the ass to ship everything so often.”

It wasn’t long after that when the café came into view. It was squeezed between the sandwich shop Jesse had been heading towards and an Apple store. The front façade was dark brown brick, with a cute little green overhang that shielded a couple black metal tables and seats from the weather. Jesse stopped in front of the rows of pink flowers that grew in planters before the little fence of the café.

Jesse was running his hand down the back of his neck, a nervous tick if he ever had one. “Well, here y’ are.”

Hanzo gave him a slight bow after eyeing the shop. “My thanks. I hope I did not divert you too far from your destination…ah…?” It seemed to occur to him only then that he had never asked for the cowboy’s name.

          “Jesse McCree, darlin’. S’ pleasure. And nope! I was actually goin’ right next door here t’ pick up lunch fer my old man.” They both gave firm handshakes before Jesse raked his hands through his wavy brown locks again. “Well uh, I guess we’ll be in touch. It was nice t’ meet y’.”

          “Likewise.”

They both gave small goodbyes and wishes for a good lunch before Jesse wandered into the sandwich shop, and Hanzo heading inside to the café. As soon as the elder Shimada stepped foot inside the café, he spotted his brother leaning up on the counter in his light pink shirt and teal shorts, flirting with a cute boy on the other side. Hanzo went over, clamping down a hand on his brother’s shoulder, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin while letting out an indignant squeak.

          “You were here…the entire time…?” Although his voice was sweet, it made Genji immediately begin sweating nervously, knowing the venom that was lurking just behind the words.

          “Ah, _Anija_ , you’re finally here!” he chuckled.

          “I _texted_ you Genji. I got _lost_. And you ignored it because you were _flirting_?”

Genji excused himself from talking to the tan boy with the shaved head behind the counter. “He’s adorable Hanzo, I mean look at him. Came here all the way from Tibet. And, I, ah, am glad you found your way.”

Hanzo hissed at him, “No thanks to you! I am thankful the cowboy showed up when he did.”

That made Genji perk up. “Cowboy? What cowboy?”

Hanzo finally released the death grip he had on Genji’s shoulder, his eyes shifting away. “I…met the cowboy who won your giveaway.”

          “YOU WHAT.”

Hanzo hushed his brother, his outburst having attracted many café-goers’ attention. “Shhh! Yes, I met him. He saw I was lost and recognized me, and walked me here because he was going next door anyway—“

          “He _walked with you_.” Genji was beside himself, small smirks and giggles coming from him at his brother’s admission, and at the blush that was blooming on Hanzo’s cheeks. “Sounds like a real charmer Hanzo~”

          “Silence. He merely helped me—“

          “But he _recognized_ you,” the green haired man purred. Hanzo said nothing, merely stood there, cheeks burning. But he was _not_ embarrassed, not at all. “The handsome, talented cowboy recognized you! Oh, I should say hi. He’s right next door right—“

          “ _No Genji!_ ”

But Genji was already giving a hasty ‘I’ll be right back’ to the guy behind the counter, and was hustling out the café door to the sandwich shop next door. Hanzo remained behind, not wanting to cause a scene by _strangling_ his younger brother in the middle of the American capitol. It was a sigh of relief that came from the model when his brother returned, deflated. Genji had missed the man by only by a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon that Hanzo is the Thorin Oakenshield of the Overwatch universe-------a prince with terrible direction!


	5. A Short Aside--Anger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get used to the upload speed. I just happen to have absolute nothing to do write now. This chapter I thought about tacking on to the end of the last one, but it felt odd and out of place. This one is pretty short.

          “Ah! You should come to Oktoberfest this year, my friend!” Reinhardt was possibly the largest German—nay, the largest man, Gabriel had ever met in his life, and even gray and old as he was now, the old man towered above him as they walked through the halls of Gabe’s work. “I’m still trying to convince Ana to leave the shop to come with me…”

Once upon a time, in a war that only now seemed like both yesterday as well as a far off memory, the two of them had went out into the battlefield together. Reinhardt Wilhelm always charged forth, wearing the heaviest of armor and providing shields for the soldiers behind him to use as cover. He was one of the most reliable soldiers Gabe had ever had the pleasure of knowing, and even after both he and Ana Amari had retired, Gabe made sure to keep in touch with the German man.

Gabe chuckled low in his throat. They were on their way down towards the lobby to meet up with Jesse who was going to deliver lunch to them. “It’s in September right? Maybe I’ll be able to get the week off…”

Reinhardt gave a booming laugh, clapping a large hand across the smaller man’s shoulders. If he saw Gabe wince, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Ha ah! Yes! You’ll be able to taste the finest beer in the world, and get pretzel’s the size of your head!”

It sounded like a great time. Perhaps he _could_ get a week off…The kids could watch the house while he was abroad. Military recruitment and recon training could wait a week right?

Just as they were rounding a corner to head towards the main stairs of the building that lead down into the lobby, Reinhardt stopped short.

          “What are you—“

          “Isn’t that--?” Reinhardt pointed ahead to a man who had just reached the top of the steps and was heading towards them. He was tall, broad of shoulders and slim at the wait, accented by the trailing blue coat he wore. Pins of honor were stuck on his left breast, a symbol of his past military record and the honor in which he was held by the nation. Instead of the usual light tactical armor that normally would have covered his chest, he wore a simple black shirt that clung to his abs and pecs. The secretary who was walking beside him struggled to keep up with his strong strides as he talked and gestured with an easy smile that could charm the spikes off a cactus. The man with the short graying blonde hair spotted Gabe and Reinhardt and came to a stop, startling the secretary. The smile immediately slipped from his face when his gray-blue eyes met with Gabe, his crow’s feet and frown lines becoming more predominant.

          “Well. I didn’t expect to see _you_ in Washington, Reyes.” His voice was just as Gabe remembered, one that commanded respect. The man wasn’t used to being surprised, nor had he ever liked surprises. And Gabe must have certainly been a surprise. Jack Morrison _was_ a commander after all when they had went fighting abroad many, many years ago, and holding respect and all the answers seemed to come with the post. “How long has it been?”

          “Over a decade. And some of us have real work to do, Morrison.” Gabe couldn’t keep the venom from his tone. “God you look old as fucking dirt.”

During the last war over a decade prior, both Gabe and Jack Morrison had worked together for the United States military. They had went through Special Ops boot camp together, went through the intense super soldier training that came after that, and then even hit the dirt abroad together. Gabe had been the one to stick with the more covert ops once the war began really raging, while Jack was in the front lines, yelling orders over his shoulders while his men followed him with blind loyalty to hell and back. And while Gabe was gathering intel for the government as an unseen hero, Jack was the one being promoted time and again until he finally achieved Strike Commander status. Their relationship which had been good—hell, more than good—began suffering after that. Neither man ever had time for the other, and with the stress and gloom of war hanging over their heads, it made both men (who already had short tempers to begin with) even more volatile. When once there had been soft words and shared beds, become public screaming matches and punches thrown. Once the war was over, neither man considered the other a friend—merely someone that they had to deal with because of their positions. When they “retired” to desk work, they made sure to choose different departments. Jack had been the first to leave Washington, leaving only a letter behind on Gabe’s desk, bidding him a sour goodbye, and best wishes for the future. Gabe had burned the letter and drank himself stupid that night.

Jack curled his lip up at the tone before his face quickly shifted to a pleasant one. “On the other hand, I am glad to see you are in good health, Reinhardt my friend.” He reached out, embracing the giant German, who returned the hug with ease.

          “It has been too long Jack,” he boomed happily, despite the animosity between Gabe and Jack.

          “Will you be in Washington for a while?” Jack asked Reinhardt. “I would love to catch up with you about your travels.”

          “Ja! I will be in the capitol for most of the summer!”

Jack’s smile was sincere, yet reserved, something Gabe realized with a pang that he had both hated and missed. “Good. I will catch up with you, probably at the party—“

          “Party?” Reyes growled in confusion. “What party?”

Reinhardt laughed. “You know, the party on Friday night that President is hosting?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Still not reading your paperwork I see. Mr. President sent out a memo about it a month or two ago.” His mouth twisted into a smirk. “He’s honoring veterans of the war in a big memorial ball. And apparently I’m getting a statue—“

          “No fucking way. Why the _hell_ would _you_ get a statue?” Gabe growled. He was quickly losing his temper, pressing forward, stretching as tall as he could to impose on his old lover.

But Jack was not so easily intimidated. The Indiana native stood at his full height as well, glaring into Gabe’s angry eyes. “Because some people like to think I’m a _hero_ , Reyes.”

Reinhardt shoved them apart, more aware that there were people watching, including the secretary who looked like she was sweating bullets because of the tension. “ _Boys_ ,” he hissed, “behave yourselves.”

Jack took a step back, fluffing out his jacket. “I will see you both on Friday. It was good to see you Reinhardt,” then with a once over added, “Reyes,” before continuing to walk down the hall. It took a moment for the secretary to gather her wits and trot after him, his strides fuller than before.

Gabe watched him leave, watched that once familiar hourglass frame disappear around a corner. In another time he would have given chase, said something silly, promised time alone later. But now all he could do watch him leave again while he kicked a nearby trashcan, scattering paper and liter everywhere. Reinhardt sighed and motioned for people to keep moving as Reyes began running his hands through his buzzed black hair, cursing angrily in Spanish.

          “Calm down Gabriel,” Reinhardt tried to say as people began to stare.

Then a voice floated up from the lobby, “You ok up there dad?”

Reinhardt sighed as Gabe froze. “Ah, it looks like lunch is here at least…”

         

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't guessed, there might be an underlying ship happening in this fic....(perhaps a couple depending on how I feel).


	6. Progressing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry for the long time it took to upload, but a lot has been happening (good things!) in my personal life that have distracted me from both this fic and From Hanamura with Love. This is a small update mainly for moving the plot forward. Hope you enjoy and thank you all for the positive feedback and kudos!

It was almost refreshing to be able to move about and do errands and not constantly be approached by people who knew him. Genji strolled through the mall, looking like any other twenty something year old, those around him oblivious that he ran a fairly popular YouTube channel. Not that he minded being semi famous—on the contrary, he rather liked knowing people watched his uploads—but it was also nice to be able to be _normal_ sometimes. Well, as normal in appearance as a small Japanese man with insanely bright green hair and sharp eyeliner could be waltzing around the United States capitol.

For once he wasn’t appearing as extra as he would have if he were vlogging. Instead he was wearing faded denim shorts, a baggy black shirt with the two dragon circling another on the back, aviators, and a pair of black chucks. His eyeliner was black as the night and sharp as a blade, but other than that and some red correcting primer, Genji Shimada was rather plain looking. The glitter had all but came out of his hair during the first washing, and he had yet to apply more. The A/C in the mall had been a welcome relief to the sweltering heat and humidity outside and he hoped to the makeup gods that his eyeliner survived the outing.

Urban Decay had recently released a new eyeshadow palette, filled with warm colors just in time for summer, and unfortunately for Genji, the company had sent his PR palette to his last address in Gibraltar. Not one to be left in the dust by other makeup artists and beauty gurus on YouTube, he decided to head out to the mall and pick up one of the palettes—just to see what the already mixed reviews were all about. He crossed the mall, by passing other stores he wanted to look in but saving for another time, until he came across the familiar white and black striped store. The scent of a million types of makeup and perfume hit him as soon as he entered through the large open doors. This Sephora wasn’t overly packed—probably because it was closing in on dinner time, but there was still a good amount of people wandering the racks. He waved off the staff who asked if he needed help, not withholding one of his charming smiles, before making his way over to the Urban Decay section. On it in beautiful displays, the makeup was presented, all grouped according to type of makeup. The warm orangey-rust coloring of the palette box jumped out at him immediately, wedged between older Naked palettes.

The last thing he expected was for his fingers to brush someone else’s as he reached for the eyeshadow. He immediately pulled his hand away and stared wide eyed at the girl beside him who had done the very same. Her black and purple hair was tossed to the side, showing off the side of her head that was shaved, while her large round sunglasses kept her bangs from getting into her face. Her whole outfit was very HotTopic-esque, from the checkerboard Van shoes, to the galaxy print skinny jeans, to the shredded looking Black Veil Brides shirt. But the first thing Genji really took note of was her makeup. Her cat eye was sharp and dark black, her lips were a peachy nude, and her highlighter was put on obviously with a delicate hand.

Then he noticed her bright purple acrylic nails and had to pause.

          “I’m sorry,” she muttered, going to reach for another Heat palette that was stacked beside the other.

Genji regarded her for a moment before pushing his sunglasses up his face, revealing his brown eyes and flawless liner. “Are you…purplehacker?”

The girl froze, nearly dropping the box of eye colors onto the floor. Her eyes were big as saucers when she looked up at him. “How do you—“ But when their eyes met, she couldn’t keep the quiet startled gasp from coming out. “ _You’re Genji Shimada!”_

          “And you’re the girl who won my giveaway!” He was just about as excited as she was. It wasn’t unusual for him to run into fans while he was out and about—on the contrary it happened frequently, but to randomly come across a giveaway winner who hadn’t approached him first was not a regular occurrence by any means. “It’s…Sombra, right?” She nodded happily, unable to keep the smile from lighting up her face. Genji glanced around, hoping to steal a look at her cowboy brother. “The aspiring makeup cowboy isn’t with you?”

Sombra gave a chuckle. “No, he’s at home, probably watching TV.”

          “A shame, I’ve been dying to meet him—and you of course!” Genji ran a hand through his hair. “Wow…I can’t believe I just ran into you,” he said with a chuckle, “So, since I’m face to face with you…we should…make a date for me to give you what you’ve won. It’s a lot by the way!”

The aspiring makeup artist immediately pulled out her phone and flipped through her notes and calendar. “Hm…does tomorrow work for you? If you wanted to meet Jesse, he’s free tomorrow, and so am I.”

Likewise, Genji went through his phone. He had many more appointments and reminders than Sombra, although most of them were to remember to go buy certain makeup products that release soon, and to remember to upload videos to YouTube. “That should work fine,” he said with a gentle smile. “If he’s not too grumpy, I may just bring Hanzo with me.”

The girl’s eyes were practically glittering. “We would love to meet him. As for lunch…there’s a nice sandwich shop down on—“

          “Is it Zen Garden Café?” Genji asked. When Sombra seemed surprised he knew of the small shop he elaborated with, “It’s my favorite food place in D.C., I’ve been eating there a lot since we came back to the states. The food is so good!” Not to mention certain members of the staff were _adorable_.

The two of them hashed out the deals—1pm at Zen Garden Café, bringing the brothers—and snapped some selfies together before they parted, both with a little white and black striped bag with a palette inside.

Later that night neither was surprised to find the other had posted their selfies on Instagram, tagging the other with a cute comment and tons of emojis.

 


End file.
